California Sunshine

“Science geeks,” I admit, and Nova chuckles a little, reminding me that he’s a science geek at heart himself. “The pimples and glasses and way more interested in playing Dungeons and Dragons than playing with girls kind.”

“Sounds like you didn’t date much, then,” Bats surmises.

Shrugging, I reply, “I tried. But they were more interested in inviting my gnome mage on an adventure than inviting me to the movies. Well, unless we were all going to see the latest Marvel movie.”

“So what changed?” Nova asks. “How’d you go from science geeks to assholes?”

“Rachel,” I say, catching the guys off guard. “We’ve been friends since we were kids. While I was content focusing on studying and being ignored, Rach was the popular volleyball star. After we graduated from high school, she decided I needed an upgrade and offered to help me with clothes and makeup and what not. Just before the start of our junior year, we had a weekend of shopping and makeovers, and I let Rachel go wild. Bryce noticed. He invited me to dinner after the hiking club’s start of the year hike, and I said yes.”

I let out a long sigh, remembering the sweet start to our relationship and all the happy feelings it had filled me with. Happy memories now forever tainted. “Last summer we went on a trip around the Three Sisters, and he told me he loved me. Then, for Christmas, he got us the permits for this trip, and everything was perfect.”

A sniff escapes, a precursor to coming tears, I’m sure. When I’ve been quiet for a long minute, gathering my thoughts and my strength, Nova curls his fingers around mine, and prompts, “What happened?”

Deep breath, Lizzy. You can do this. You need to do this.

“It was the weekend before Valentine’s Day. Bryce and I hadn’t been able to spend a lot of time together since Christmas. We both had pretty grueling schedules, trying to get our degrees done before heading here. It was a Friday night, and our friend was having a birthday party. Bryce had missed coming over the night before, supposedly because of a paper he had forgotten about. I thought I’d go over to his place to surprise him when he got home.”

Pausing, I squeeze Nova’s hand as I wrap his arm tighter around me. I need him to hold me together, like he did in Big Bear. Perhaps more than I needed in Big Bear. I didn’t have to say it. Didn’t have to admit how a single instant had cracked my heart in two. Nova places a tender kiss on my head. “I’m here,” he whispers, and I nod.

“I had a key, so I let myself into his apartment. That’s when . . . I heard. I heard, and then I saw.” I suck in a shuddering breath, the scene playing in mind like a TikTok on repeat. A very explicit TikTok. “They were on the couch. Her back was to me, so I never saw what she looked like. I don’t even know her name. But Bryce . . . Bryce saw me. And . . . he smiled. The asshole . . . smiled,” I say, the sting of tears welling up in my eyes. “Like he didn’t give two shits I had seen him. That he didn’t give two shits about me.” I sniff again, holding back the flood as long as possible. “So I ran. I ran, and I didn’t look back. I blocked him. Didn’t think about him. Just finished my degree, grabbed my permit and . . .” Wet tears slip down my cheeks.

“And then you met us,” Nova finishes for me. I nod, unable to do anything more. Silent tears fall down my cheeks, loosened by admitting what I’ve tried so hard to ignore. He tilts my head back, bringing my gaze to his soft, caring eyes. He raises a finger to wipe my tears away. With every heartbeat, I expect him to lean forward, to kiss me, to distract me from the pain. Instead, he does one better. He pulls me tight into an embrace, hugging me with everything he can. It fills me with a warmth that doesn’t hide the pain, but chases it away.

“Your first love is supposed to be special,” I say, sniffing back the tears for a moment more. “Something to remember and cherish. How am I supposed to remember Bryce as anything more than an asshole who broke my heart in the worst possible way?”

The spring grows quiet again. I don’t know how long we sit there, letting the heartache and the pain seep out with each drop. Eventually, when the tears stop, I take a deep breath of fresh air, like it’s the first clean breath I’ve had in months. When I lift my head back to the guys, Bats’ expression mirrors my own. We’ve both experienced something that’s changed us. Altered the courses we had been on. Grinder’s eyes, though . . . they hold a cold fury, and for once, I know it’s not for me. I don’t doubt that maybe, given the chance to meet, Grinder would kick Bryce’s ass. I might even feel bad for Bryce if he took the beating Grinder’s gaze is threatening. Maybe. Good thing they’ll never meet, I guess.

Grinder’s gaze softens as he realizes I’m not turning away. “You wanted to know why I came here?” I say to him, recalling our conversation at Lake Hemet. “I came here to put Bryce behind me. To prove that I wasn’t about to let some asshole ruin my chance at something incredible. To prove that I could do something like this, even if it meant going by myself.”

“Is that why Bryce wrote that tweet?” Bats asks, bringing the conversation back around to how they found out about the asshole in the first place. “To mess with your trip? Are you sure you’re trying to prove something to yourself? Or are you trying to prove it to someone else?”

I groan, wishing I knew the answer to his question. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I haven’t heard from Bryce since Valentine’s Day. Not that I want to hear from him. I don’t know why he popped up on my Instagram feed, or why he felt like he had to attack me like that. Honestly, I just want to put him behind me. I’m done with him. I’m ready for more than what he had to offer.”

Bats wades across the spring, offering his hand to help me out of Nova’s lap in the same way I offered him mine when he told his story. Nova’s firm hold and Bats’ gentle grasp tells me they’re here for me, to help me get back on my emotional feet. “Come on, Belle. It’s time we got moving.”

I glance at Grinder, but he doesn’t meet my gaze this time. Without a word, he climbs out of the pool and heads for the shore. The rest of us follow after him, making our way back to camp with only a few words. There’s nothing more to say tonight. Bats and I have said enough.

When we get back to camp, there’s one last thing I need to answer. I cross to Bats’ hammock, where the big guy is already swaying back and forth. He removes his earbuds when I approach. For a moment, I’m curious what he’s downloaded, but I’ll have to ask later. His last question was left lingering, and I need to answer it. To say it out loud. “Myself,” I state. “When I got the permit from Bryce, I thought the trek would show me what life with Bryce could be like. If we could be together twenty-four seven for five months, then why not longer? Why not the rest of our lives?”

“And now?”

“Now . . . It’s giving me the chance to figure out what I want for myself.”

For the second time that day, Bats smiles at me. His eyes are full of understanding. From one soul in need to another. If I believed in anything like fate, it wouldn’t be surprising that we found each other at a time when we needed each other.

I turn and head back to my tent, ready to turn in. But as I get there, a strong, gentle hand grasps my arm, turning me around and drawing me in. I don’t have the chance to be surprised, but then, I’m not. Sharing a hug with Bats is just the way this evening should end. “I’m glad you’re here, Belle,” he tells me.

I sigh contented. “I’m glad you guys let me join you.” Nothing is truer at the moment than that one simple fact. When I left home, I thought I needed to do this alone, but the longer I’m with these guys, the more apparent it becomes that I need them. And apparently, Bats needs me too.

Bats gives me a quick squeeze, then lets me go to climb into my tent.

Climbing into my sleeping bag, anticipating a good night’s sleep, there’s a slight rustling near my tent. Then someone whispers, “I’m sorry, Belle.” It takes my tired brain a moment to realize what I had heard. By the time I get the tent door unzipped, there’s no one there. Though across from me, I spot the zipper of Grinder’s tent closing.

I close my tent, returning to my sleeping bag. As I drift off to sleep, my mind keeps replaying Grinder’s usually polished voice cracking with those words. I’m not certain which of the various reasons he’s sorry for, or why he’s suddenly sorry at all. Nor do I know why he couldn’t tell me that without a tent wall between us. But I find my opinion of the asshole a bit softened.

Maybe Deep Creek Hot Springs soothed more than just our tired muscles tonight.